


Knock Twice Before Entering

by Cumberbatch Critter (ivelostmyspectacles)



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Gen, Masturbation Interruptus, Mostly Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-09
Updated: 2017-12-09
Packaged: 2019-02-12 10:46:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12957552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivelostmyspectacles/pseuds/Cumberbatch%20Critter
Summary: Noct isn't a voyeur, heswears.Or: Noct catches the boys jerking off, respectively.





	Knock Twice Before Entering

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Masozii](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Masozii/gifts).



> I want to say this fic is completely masozii's fault but I've also written shit like this for other fandoms so it's only 75% maso's fault and 25% mine
> 
> Thanks for brainstorming with me xP

When he walks in on Gladio, Noct swears he’s more embarrassed than his shield is. Which is to say, Gladio isn’t embarrassed at all. How is that fair?

He supposes it’s his own fault, really, because he was supposed to be out fishing longer than he said and the others are still at the diner. But he isn’t thinking about it; he just wants to go back to their room and have a shower after fishing in this humidity and go to _sleep_. If he can get to sleep before Ignis takes advantage of the kitchenette– the man’s been talking of ‘balanced diets’ for days, and Noct knows those keywords– then maybe he’ll be spared the vegetables. Probably not. But _maybe_.

So his mind’s on other things when he opens the door to their room and steps inside. And is immediately met with the sight of Gladio stretched out along the sofa, pants around his knees and cock in hand. And then just _stares_ , because he’s surprised at what he’s seeing and he _really_ shouldn’t be given the man’s open regards about sexuality. He’s never caught him before and he’s never really _tried_ to and it’s one of those really awkward moments where you can’t _move_ , no matter how much your brain is screaming at you on the inside.

Gladio, for his part, looks surprised for approximately one half of a second, but carries on, unperturbed, without even that much of a pause. His attention barely diverts from the magazine in his free hand and Noctis’s brain is really, truly _screaming_.

“You wanna join in or something?” Gladio’s voice is rough, and breathless, and that’s the trance broken; Noctis goes reeling back into the door he’d barely had time to close upon walking in.

“No!” he exclaims, yells, he doesn’t know, and grabs the doorknob to throw the door open. He can’t get out fast enough, and thinks he must imagine Gladio laughing at him as he goes.

Prompto definitely does, laugh at him, that is, when Noct goes to find him and Ignis at the diner. Thinks it’s the funniest thing, evidently, and even Ignis’s eyes seem to be filled with their own silent laughter as he hands over money for Noctis to buy a drink; his wallet is back in their room, and no way in hell is he going back in there.

 

 

Prompto doesn’t laugh when Noct walks in on _him_ , although he’s not as flustered as he would be, Noct suspects, if he had been Ignis or Gladio.

Decidedly _not_ his fault this time; they’ve all been at the campsite for hours now. Gladio and Ignis had even gone off to hunt for ingredients and scout the fauna of the area, and it wasn’t like the tent was an off-limits area. He was going to ask him if he wanted to join up in King’s Knight, for God’s sake. That was all.

And instead he gets the briefest glance of Prompto’s pubes and a shriek that nearly pierces his eardrums upon pushing back the flap on the tent.

Noct nearly pulls the tent right off its poles in his haste to back away, one hand clutching at the canvas and the other pressed against his ringing ear. _That’s_ sure to bring the other two running back, if they heard. For Prompto’s sake, he hopes they didn’t. And for his own sake, too; he doesn’t want to have this conversation again. What the _hell_ –

 _“Nooooct,”_ Prompto whines– or, or… let it be him _whining_ and not… saying his name like that as he did himself. _God_ , he didn’t want this today! Or ever! Yeah, it’ll be funny later but…

(Besides, he knows Prompto is… louder than that. They met in high school proper and it wasn’t like Noct had ever been inclined to go to Gladio or Ignis for porn recs. But he’s conveniently forgotten that for the moment.)

“Sorry,” he mumbles, dropping to sit just outside the tent. It’s as far as his legs have gotten. “I didn’t… you weren’t–”

“I thought you were sleeping!”

“I was!” Noctis replies. “Well, sort of, I mean I was just dozing, but… ugh.” He scrubs the heel of his hand against his forehead and plants both hands on the ground. “Sorry.”

Prompto makes a vaguely distressed noise from inside of the tent, and then there’s the shuffle of movement.

Noctis doesn’t know what he’s doing. He isn’t sure he wants to. “Uh, you might want to… finish up. You were, er, kinda loud there.”

“Thanks!” Prompto announces, and his head pops out of the tent flap. “That makes me feel _so_ much better!” He shoves at Noct’s shoulder, gently but firmly pushing him aside. He is very definitely redressed. “Can’t _believe_ this…”

“You could’ve, I dunno, put a sock outside the tent or something.”

“That’s _asking_ for being teased!” Prompto pouts. “Not that the blue balls are any better,” he adds, a mutter under his breath, and goes to throw himself down in front of the fire.

Ignis and Gladio are back before a full sixty seconds goes by. Noct has studiously put his nose back into King’s Knight and Prompto hastens to join him when the other two come jogging up, worried, as Noct had guessed, because of Prompto’s shout.

“It’s nothing, Noct just… scared me,” Prompto says, and manages to sound both vehement and embarrassed at the same time.

It’s quiet for a moment. Ignis says nothing, but Gladio…

“He caught him jerking off,” he says, and Prompto makes a noise like a dying animal and throws his hands up over his face.

 

 

Catching Ignis ought to be infinitely more satisfying, given the bet Noctis, Prompto, and Gladio have regarding who will catch him first. It’s not.

He thinks he’s left the keys in the car; he usually leaves it to Ignis and he doesn’t care, but parked on the side of the road asks for trouble if he leaves the keys in the Regalia. And he doesn’t know where Ignis has gotten off to, probably scouting or off for a piss, whatever, he’d likely missed the conversation and asking now would probably get him a scolding for not paying attention. He just wants to go to sleep. So, he goes to check if the keys are in the car before he can, since it’s not like anyone else will.

He doesn’t _expect_ to find their missing advisor in the Regalia, an ungloved hand wrapped firmly around his cock and the other white-knuckling the steering wheel. Or he figures he’s white-knuckling it. He’s still wearing his usual glove on that hand.

He’s not aware of making a noise, or maybe his movement catches Ignis’s eyes or… or _something_. Ignis flinches– no, _jerks_ and Noct will figure later that he must have been right on the edge because, suddenly, he’s watching Ignis orgasm. A spurt of thick and white and Noctis jolts backwards, spins on his heel and can’t get away fast enough.

“Oh _God,”_ he says, out loud, and then claps a hand to his mouth, skin hot from embarrassment.

Probably less than _Ignis’s_ embarrassment, but he doesn’t have to worry: it feels like he’s just walked in on something he was _really_ never supposed to witness, and doesn’t expect he’ll bring it up again. Even for the bet. It’s not even worth that. Save themselves the _embarrassment_.

The Regalia’s door opens and Noct doesn’t look back. He keeps walking until Ignis, quickly, clears his throat to speak. “Noct–”

“Nope. Nuh uh.”

_“Highness.”_

The commanding tone makes him stop, reflex from years of well-intended lectures back at home. He swallows, and forces himself to look over his shoulder. “Yeah?”

Ignis looks less than put together, and yet still very much like he is trying to be. “I, ah. Allow me to apologize–”

“No. No.” It’s the only word he can get out. _Shit._ “Don’t, it’s…” He’s trying not to look at him directly and his gaze is still arrested by a streak of white against the purple of Ignis’s shirt. And further down, eyes traitorously dropping to his crotch, his fly is still undone. “… just…”

Ignis follows his gaze, too, and hurriedly smooths his hand through the wet on his shirt and fixes his zipper. He fixes him with the same casually unruffled look, but his face is redder than Noct has ever seen it.

“… clean up my car,” Noct finishes, weakly.

Ignis pushes his glasses up at that, with his gloved hand, the hand that hadn’t been on his cock and the hand that hadn’t just smeared his spunk into his shirt. That hand is balled into a fist at his side. “… right,” he says, and assents with a nod.

Noctis hurries away before the awkwardness can swallow them alive. Well. There was the answer to his question. Next time he won’t go looking if both Ignis and the keys are gone.


End file.
